Amanda Scott (33 page)

Stopping in their tracks, they looked at each other and listened for a second shot. When none came, MacDrumin began to hurry up the path, but Rothwell paused to shout for James.

Despite the noise of the river, James heard him, shoved his rod into Ian’s hands, leapt to his feet, and ran up the slope. Throwing both rods to the ground, the boy followed, but James reached Rothwell well ahead of him. “What is it?” he demanded.

“Shots,” Rothwell said tersely, gesturing. “MacDrumin’s gone on, but he’s unarmed.” Taking his pistol from his pocket, he thrust it at James. “Take this. I’ve got my sword.”

Together they broke into a ground-eating lope, oblivious to rocks, roots, and dead branches in their path, and soon overtook MacDrumin. As they came up to him, he paused near a huge boulder at a curve in the path, holding up a hand for silence.

“What is it?” Rothwell muttered when he got near. He could not see along the path, for the boulder, close-growing trees, and dense shrubbery hid what lay beyond the curve from their view.

“Someone ahead,” MacDrumin replied in a gruff undertone. “Not sure who. Thought I heard Maggie’s voice.” As he inched forward, Rothwell saw the murderous-looking dagger in his hand. He had not seen any sign before that MacDrumin was armed.

“Where the devil did that come from?” he murmured.

MacDrumin shot him a grin. “The air, lad, from God’s pure Highland air. Now, whisst, will ye? ’Tis Maggie for certain.”

But the voice Rothwell heard first was not Maggie’s but Kate’s, and from her tone, she was angry. “Daft louts,” she snarled. “I ought to have killed them both.”

To Rothwell’s astonishment, Maggie laughed, but her voice sounded strained when she said, “Kate, what were you thinking? Fergus will have your heart sent to him on a platter for this.”

“He may want it,” Kate said, “but he’ll not get it.”

Rothwell, sensing James at his elbow, exchanged a glance with him and saw that he was looking uncharacteristically grim.

Behind James, young Ian had also heard Kate’s voice. “Kate,” the boy cried, “I’m here, Kate!” He ran out as Rothwell and MacDrumin stepped from behind the boulder, and both young women looked surprised and none too pleased to see them. Kate, despite the two pistols she held, caught Ian in her arms and hugged him. “Were you running to the rescue then, wee laddie?”

“Ye didna require rescuing,” he said, grinning at her and returning her hug with interest. “I saw James run up the slope, and heard his lordship calling for him, and so I came to see what was happening. Who did you shoot, Kate?”

“No one. Just frighted off a pair of carrion crows. I did not mean to frighten anyone but them, though.”

“I wasna skeert,” he said indignantly, “but I left me rod behind when I ran tae see what was happening.”

“And your trout, too?” she asked.

“Aye. I caught six, Kate.”

“’Tis a braw laddie, you are, Ian. We’ll feast on trout the night, and your granny will be well pleased.”

Casting a shy glance at James, Ian said, “James caught four, Kate, and he said we could have them as well.”

Without looking at James, Kate said gently, “You must address the gentleman as Mr. Carsley, Ian.”

“Nay, for he said I shouldna, that I may call him James, because we’re friends the noo.”

“He’s right, I did say that,” James said, looking at her as if he dared her to argue.

She still would not meet his gaze. She said to Ian, “Run fetch your trout, and we’ll take them to Granny.”

When the boy had gone, Rothwell, looking at Maggie, said abruptly, “What the devil happened here?”

Her chin came up with a jerk, and she said, “Do not take that tone with me, Rothwell. If you’ve a question to ask, ask it in a civil manner.”

Rothwell saw MacDrumin’s lips twitch, and managed to keep his temper, albeit with difficulty. He had been startled to hear the gunshot, then frightened to realize that Maggie was somehow involved, and even now, knowing it was Kate who had fired the shot, he could not seem to regain his poise. His tone was still curt when he said, “I want to know why Miss MacCain fired that pistol.”

Maggie folded her lips tightly together, and Kate, still ignoring James, looked at Rothwell and back at Maggie before she said cheerfully, “I can tell you, my lord. That great lout Fergus Campbell and his wee shadow, Sawny MacKenzie, were trying to force their attentions on Maggie, so I explained to them that they must not behave in so ill-mannered a fashion and sent them about their business.”

MacDrumin snapped, “Where did they go?”

“Aye,” James said in much the same tone. “Where?”

Kate pointed toward the path. “Yonder,” she said.

“By God,” MacDrumin said, “I will—”

“Wait,” Rothwell said. “What do you propose to do?”

“Teach that spawn of Satan to keep his filthy hands off my daughter. Did he harm you, lass?”

“No,” Maggie said quickly. “He just made me angry. But if Kate had not come along when she did—” She broke off abruptly when her gaze encountered Rothwell’s.

He knew she sensed his mounting fury, for she looked wary, as well she should. He said grimly, “So you admit you were really in danger, do you? It may surprise you to learn that you are not yet out of it. MacDrumin,” he added, turning to him, “I want to speak with your daughter, but I hope you will reconsider going after Campbell.”

“Why should I?” MacDrumin asked testily. “’Tis the best excuse I’ve had in a decade to raid the Campbells, and my lads will be sorely disappointed if I do not take it.”

“I have come to believe you have sense, MacDrumin, and that all Highlanders are not savages. A raid on the Campbells over this incident would prove me wrong. I know you have little respect for the law, but I would ask you to let me handle this.”

Much of Rothwell’s diplomatic skill was required, and as much of his self-control, to convince the fiery chieftain and Kate, and even James, but he succeeded. He could not pretend, however, that he enjoyed similar success with Maggie.

Though the others left him in privacy to make his point with her, and though she listened with civility, when he finished lecturing her, she said, “You do not have the right to command me, Rothwell. I agree that when such persons as Fergus appear in the glen—persons, I remind you, that your English government foisted on us—a lady can no longer feel safe in her own woods; however, had I not strayed from the paths, I’d have seen the warnings and been quite safe. I will take more care, not because you command it but because it is sensible to do so.”

He clenched his fists, experiencing a nearly overwhelming urge to bellow at her, even to shake her, or at least to take her in his arms and hold her tight, for he could now see bruises forming on her cheek where Campbell must have struck her. The sight infuriated him, and he felt as angry with her and with himself as he did with Campbell. Wishing he knew how to manage her, to keep her safe, at least, he knew the exchange had done nothing to smooth their relationship, and he soon realized that his refusal to support a raid on the Campbells and MacKenzies had not endeared him to MacDrumin, either.

Even James seemed put out with him, but he knew he was right. To begin a clan war over an incident where Maggie was as much at fault for walking out alone as Campbell was for behaving like a scurvy knave would be wrong. The fact that he would have liked nothing better than to murder Campbell with his own two hands did not alter that fact one whit.

The following day was Sunday, and although Rothwell had been grateful to learn the MacDrumins were not Catholic, as they might have been, since many Highlanders still followed the ancient faith, it had been almost as bad to learn that they bore no allegiance to the Church of England. He went with them to their kirk because he was curious and there was nowhere else to go, but he decided that he would arrange for a chaplain to accompany him when he next visited the Highlands.

The family had returned to Glen Drumin House, and gathered in the great hall for dinner, when the door banged back on its hinges and Kate appeared in the opening, carrying Ian’s unmoving body in her arms. Tears were streaming down her face. She stumbled forward, gasping, “Help us, Laird, oh please, help us!”

M
AGGIE WAS THE FIRST
to reach Kate, but the men were right behind her. She saw at once that Ian was unconscious. A gash near his right temple was bleeding sluggishly.

“What happened?” she demanded, trying to take the boy from Kate, or at least help her carry him.

Before Kate could control her sobs enough to answer, Maggie was moved firmly aside and James reached to take Ian. To Maggie’s astonishment, Kate relinquished him at once, saying, “Mind his left arm, sir. I think it is broken.”

Maggie called sharply to one of the staring servants, “Send for the herb woman, quickly!”

“There is no need,” Rothwell said, drawing her gently out of the way, while MacDrumin swept everything from the table to the floor so that James could lay the child down. “James knows what he’s about,” Rothwell added. “How does he look, James?”

“Not good,” James said, leaning down to put his ear against Ian’s small, thin chest. “He’s breathing at least, and I can hear his heart beating. Maggie, have someone fetch clean cloths and warm water, and my kit from my bedchamber.”

She turned to give the order and heard Rothwell, behind her, ask Kate again to tell them what had happened. Kate was watching James but said in a grim tone, without turning, “They were looking for me, the Campbells, on account of the pistols. My granny told me.” Her voice broke, but she regained control and went on, “’Twas like Glencoe, she said, only not the middle of the night. She said they rode into the yard—ten, at least—shouting for me, and when she shouted back that I wasn’t there, they tore the place apart, she said. Granny snatched up her broom to bash one over the head, screaming at them to get out, but another knocked her to the ground. Ian heard her screams, because he ran in, waving one of my pistols, she said, and he went for Fergus Campbell himself, the brave wee lad, but missed his shot. Fergus picked him up then, Granny said, and … and …” She cleared her throat and wiped away tears, then went on in a firmer tone, “Fergus threw him across the room like a bundle of soiled laundry, and Ian’s head hit the wall a terrible crack.” Her voice broke in another sob, and tears flooded her cheeks.

Maggie wanted to cry, too. She put her arm around Kate’s shoulders, and said gently, “What of Granny? Was she hurt?”

“Aye, but I don’t know how bad,” Kate said wretchedly. “Once I saw Ian, I didna think of anything else. I snatched the wee laddie up and brought him here to be safe.” Another sob escaped. “I was afraid the men would come back. Granny told me to go, and I couldna bring her along, or my mother either, so they are both there, and … and Fergus might—”

She broke down, overcome by exhaustion and horror, and James said harshly, “Ned, I can’t leave the boy, but they will need—”

“I’m going,” Rothwell said. Maggie heard a bitterness in his voice, and another note as well, one that she had never heard before, a note that sent shivers up her spine.

Knowing it had cost Kate much to admit her fear, Maggie was not surprised to hear her say tautly, “I’ll go with you.”

“I’ll go, too,” Maggie said, giving her hand a squeeze.

Rothwell began to object, but MacDrumin interrupted, saying flatly, “Let them come. If Granny has been hurt, or Rose, the lasses will be more use to them than we will, and nobody will harm them whilst they’re with us.”

Rothwell agreed, and they left less than ten minutes later, escorted by a number of MacDrumin’s men, but when they reached the MacCain cottage, they discovered there was little to be done for Granny or for Kate’s mother. Both women were dead.

In the small front room, which looked as if someone had turned it upside down and shaken it, Rose MacCain slumped in her rocking chair, her eyes open, her face still. It was as if, Maggie thought, her life had just seeped away. Moving to close Rose’s eyes, Maggie wondered if she had been like that when Kate first came home, and knew she might well have been. Rose MacCain had scarcely moved an eyelash even on her good days. Sensing someone beside her, Maggie looked up to see Rothwell, and said, “She is at peace now, I suppose, but how did they kill her?”

“I doubt that they meant to,” he said quietly. “She probably died of the shock.”

“Granny’s where I left her,” Kate said. “She must have been hurt worse than she admitted when she told me to take Ian, not to mind about her. Why did I listen? I ought to have stayed!”

Maggie moved quickly to comfort her, but Kate stiffened at her touch. Waiting only until Maggie took her hand away, she turned to glare at Rothwell. “This is your fault.” She spat the words at him. “Had you taken them after what they did to Maggie, they’d never have done this today. Only look at that great bruise where Fergus hit her! But, you gutless English, you see nothing wrong with making war on women—aye, or beating them. You’re no better than the damned bloody Campbells yourselves!”

MacDrumin snapped, “That will do, lass. Hold your tongue!”

“I won’t!” Kate turned her fiery gaze on him. “Since you won’t deal with Fergus Campbell, I’ll deal with him myself—aye, and his whole nest of filthy vipers, if I must. Rory and Dugald will help me, for all they be MacDrumins; I’ve nae more use for the rest of ye!”

Maggie, seeing the rush of color to MacDrumin’s face, opened her mouth to intercede for Kate, but Rothwell forestalled her, saying in the same quiet tone he had used before, “Do not chastise her, sir. She has the right to say all that and more.”

The two men were looking right at each other now, and three of MacDrumin’s men who came into the cottage stopped just inside the door and kept perfectly still.

Rothwell went on, “I’ve been blaming myself from the moment Kate brought the boy into the hall. I don’t say you were right in what you meant to do yesterday, MacDrumin, but I was wrong not to listen. I do not yet understand Highland traditions well enough to issue commands or to refuse to hear you out when you believe you know what is best to be done. I did not want a clan war to begin over an incident in which I believed my own wife’s actions were at fault, despite her bruises. I do not want a clan war now. But it never once occurred to me that Fergus Campbell could believe himself so wronged by Kate’s action that he and his louts would wreak vengeance on innocent women and a child.”